


He calls them beauty, She calls them scars

by Deathbyhook



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Angst and Romance, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Smut, Romance, Slow Burn, i can be persuaded with flattery, i might put smut in- you let me know
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-16
Updated: 2017-12-03
Packaged: 2019-02-03 05:10:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,406
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12741639
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Deathbyhook/pseuds/Deathbyhook
Summary: Her world is full of “tomorrows” and the promises she keeps to herself.His world is full of “todays” that he hopes to someday deserve.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In a galaxy far, far away... It’s been over a year, the worst of the fighting is over. There are still a few residual planets asking for the First Order reign. The rest of the galaxy gives them a definitive no. Since Snoke’s demise and Kylo Ren’s infamous defection, the Resistance has become a force of good and justice. Finding particularly radical cells and eradicating them. So that the rest of the galaxy can live happily. Things are simple... Unless you’re the ex-apprentice of one Luke Skywalker with a penchant for sleeping with your previously sworn enemy...

She has freckles on her back. Kylo never thought he’d get to know that, but now that he does, he appreciates it, counts the little array of dots, and notices it almost forms a constellation. “What’re you doing?” Rey turned over in bed to face Kylo.  
“I still can’t believe we did that last night… that we do every night.. I uh… I guess- it just- things like these make me realize you’re more beautiful than I thought.”  
Her eyes widen. And she swallows.  
“Kylo, I-“ she can’t bring herself to say it. To hurt him.  
“No- I know. You don’t have to say it. I feel it. I’m just happy you’re letting me have this moment. Thank you.”  
And she hates herself all over again. And not for being weak, like she’s berated herself for being for months. But because she always finds herself above him. She has all the power in her hands. And it’s heavy. The burden. Of knowing this broken man lying next to her relies so deeply on the scraps of affection she gives him. She hates it. And he just accepts it.  
“You shouldn’t thank me,” she sits up to run a shaking hand through her hair. Her lip beginning to tremble from frustration and self loathing. She bites down on it.  
Rey feels the tendrils of his Force soothing her back, tickling up her spine, gently trying to coax some understanding of why she keeps retreating. She clamps down a cold front on his attempt. He dissuades.  
“I’ll go then,” he sighs. She folds her arms over her drawn up knees and watches him pull on his trousers. Kylo is faced away from her, so she has full view of his back as the muscles ripple. He pulls one suspender up, then the other.  
“Wait,” the word is choked out. Tight and rough. A plea. But she hates the desperation. So she grabs one of his sleeves and tosses it to him, “Don’t forget these, like last time.”  
His scoffs, a pitiful smirk taunting his full lips, “It’s not like I lost them. Anyway- if I had, I come here often enough to find them.”  
She blushes furiously, and then makes a snort of annoyance, “Stop stalling, Ren.”  
He doesn’t correct her. It’s easier for her to call him by his former moniker. And sometimes he prefers it. It’s like sandpaper on the heart when people call him Solo. And it’s always with a little venom lacing the syllables.  
He scoffs. It’s sad. Her eyes follow his retreating form, and like always he stops, half turns and says, “Night Rey.”  
When he leaves and the door slides shut, she hugs his pillow tight. It smells of him. So much so, she could almost taste him. Or perhaps that’s his actual flavor lingering on her tongue. It now smells faintly of salt. No- that’s just her tears.  
 _Tomorrow_. She thinks to her self. Always.  
 _Tomorrow I’ll stop fighting this so much. Tomorrow I’ll tell the others to shove it, because I need him. I can’t sleep at night without having felt his skin. Tomorrow I won’t care that they look at me with disgust, after he looks at me like the sun... So many tomorrows._

Someday, she’ll realize he’s okay with giving her today. Everyday.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Tensions are high.

It’s been a week.

A week of avoiding his shifts in the hangar. A week of depriving herself of the feel of his hands. A week of actively ignoring his nudging her Force in their bond; it’s soothing warmth and gentleness. She hasn’t spoken to him. And she hasn’t laid eyes on him; not since their last night together. But seven days is long enough. And after dinner with the group, she finds herself stumbling down the halls towards his quarters. Her feet pushing and pulling her forward; warring as much as the thoughts in her head. But when he’s waiting for her in the doorway, she loses any ability to think, let alone make a decision.

His eyes are soft, roaming. Finding every feature in her face. Reading her like an open holo. His lips are the only indication he’s in as much pain as she is. But she knows his inner battles are for different reasons. Namely- letting her use him like this. But like her, he is a gluten for punishment. And they crave the feel of each other.

He reaches out to her. Despite the fact she’s standing in front of him, he’s still asking. With his trembling hand. Still needing to know that at least for tonight, she’s going to choose him. She wishes she knew how to tell him. Tell him he’s never really been a choice.

She takes his hand. He leads her into the smaller alcove they made into a bedroom. Like the rest of the barracks. Her eyes follow a blue light that is seeping into the room from the en suite. He leaves it on at night. He hates to sleep in the dark. Her lip trembles at the thought.

Ben ducks his head to find her eyes. His thumb traces her lip. His own grimace follows suit, while his hands begin work under her jaw and along her neck. Fingers deftly pull at the one tie in her hair. Allowing the rest of her hair to fall on her shoulders.

She sighs from the feel of his fingers raking along her scalp, and his lips massaging away her frown. Her eyes fall shut to revel in the feeling of him. A white hot shiver shoots down her spine to her toes, and then straight back up to her womb. She missed him. All of him.

“Gods, you’re beautiful, Rey,” he whimpers, and his lips take up the task of kissing her freckles. Savoring the smooth supple skin of her cheeks. He’s a vagrant before a fountain of some much needed water. And she’s a dam needing to release the flood gates.

With a feral moan, she takes hold of his tunic around his middle and pushes them both back against the wall. He rear bumps into a low shelf and he hisses, lifting his chin in pain. But he hardly has time to grieve the bruise forming on his backside when she drags tongue and teeth along the column of his throat. Leaving a open mouthed kiss on his Adam’s apple.

“Hnnng,” she whines. The taste of him and the feeling of his hands; sliding down and around her waist, squeezing the softness of her sides; is too much. Burning deliciously all over from the sensations.

“Please,” she begs, pulling at his tunic from under his trousers, “I need to feel your skin on mine.”

He nods his head, deliriously compliant. He pulls the fabric the rest of the way; her arms not long enough to reach up above his outstretched arms. And then his skin is free from obstruction and her hands are roaming over the broad space of his chest. Tracing his scars. But he’s pulling at her own top now. It’s his turn.

When she’s freed from her shirt, left only in her chest binding, he turns her around. Spreading his immense hands over shoulder blades, then gently stroking fingertips of one hand over her freckles. The other props her up as she melts into his palm. His fingers slanting into the clefts between her ribs. His lips are suddenly kissing the speckled marks on her skin. She’s always hated them. Consider them ugly scars. But by the way Ren’s kissing her shoulders, he probably considers them beauty.

“Ren,” she’s breathes out his name. It’s a prayer, a plea, a warning. His mouth becomes more urgent. He’s slowly and surely losing his restraint. Heavy and soft lips slant over the rise of muscle between her neck and shoulder. He pulls her taught against him. Arms cross her front and his chest and groin match her inch for inch.

“Yes?” He asks, one hand palms her breast through the bind, the other is kneading her abdomen. Descending lower and lower...

“Yes,” she nearly chokes on he word when his hand finds the mound between her thighs, “uh huh!”

He gets to work on her sensitive nub hidden between folds and under trousers, and grinds his hard length in his own pants upon her rear. The shaft’s throbbing is hot and pushing against her buttock and she revels in the feel of the violent needy throbbing.

“Gods, I need you inside me! Now!” She shoves a hand behind her, and between them. Her palm slides deliciously over his length and they both jerk from the feel of it. His hand swivels over her clit again- once, twice- and then she comes crashing down. The feeling of a dizzy descent, a static whir of a sensation, but in her womb.

“Yes! Ung! Yes!” She’s holding his hand to her folds as she rides his fingers, and purposefully grinding her rear against his erection until his own thrusts grow mad and sporadic. He roars in ecstasy only a few short thrusts later. They sway with each other, sloppily kissing. Her back still to his chest.

“Ren, take me to bed.”

“Rey... don’t be mad- I hadn’t intended to go that far... I’m sorry. But I don’t want to make love tonight,” his voice shakes but he kisses her shoulder. And her core pangs like a panel falling off the side of an x-wing. She pulls away abruptly as her heart nearly leaps out of her chest to land on his own as she faces him. She is feeling, almost seeing, the thread between them pulled tight; it’s edges frayed and withered from the constant friction of them pushing and pulling towards each other.

_No, Rey. It’s because you keep pushing and pulling._

“What do you want from me?” She growls. Her barricade of defenses fly up again. He growls just the same.

“Don’t do that,” she doesn’t need to ask what he means. He hates it when she closes off from him. When he can’t feel any of her, she walls herself up so tight.

“You, don’t tell me what to do,” she hisses. It would be comical that she crosses her arm and stomps a foot, but they’re on the precipice of a blow out; the shaking of random holos and parts in his room from their warring Forces is a literal interpretation of that.

“Rey- I don’t want to fight,” he huffs out, deflates, the shaking subsides; only marginally. She’s still fuming, “It’s not about telling you what to do, it’s about- god, do you even care? Is this even what you really want?”

“What I want doesn’t matter,” her arms are slowly unfolding. She’s seeing a one track course for this conversation and a part of her is grasping that thread between them. While the other part is letting it go; steeling herself against the inevitable loss of it.

“You’re right- I guess what everyone else wants factors into this as well,” Ben shakes his head. It’s not a spiteful statement. It’s his blatant perspective. He was Kylo Ren. Commander of the most lethal squad of enforcers in the First Order. He partook in the obliteration of Hosnian Prime. He was a monster, and his road to forgiveness has been slow and rough- brutal even. She’d be betraying Finn and Poe, and the memory of Han... But, and it’s her own fault, only she knows how wrong he is.

“It’s not about everyone else,” she hates the desperate tremor in her voice. But she scoffs at him, “You wouldn’t even give me a choice, anyway. You’re so stubborn! And you just stay! Like a needy nexu!”

She knows she’s just trying to stick a barb in him. Make the inevitable end of this fight just happen already. He can’t possibly tolerate this any longer; who they are- what they are to each other... she sighs. Suddenly deflated. And she realizes he has to think it’s for her that they can’t go on, “I’m broken. You look at me like I’m infallible and I don’t know how to live up to that. I’m going to let you down. I’m going to hurt you.”

“You think you haven’t already?! This- whatever we are- is a constant heartbreak! But I’m staying,” her plan has backfired irreparably. He juts out his jaw before nodding decisively, “Because I know you, now. I _feel_ you. I’d break you immeasurably if I left, and there’d be no coming back from it. So you’re stuck with me no matter what... Make your choice. Keep in mind: I won’t be your fuck buddy anymore. But I’m not leaving either.”

This damned man! No boy! Him and his constant state of grey. Having lived in one absolute so long, and suddenly swearing it off absolutes altogether. Nothing was a clean break with him. _Why did he have to be so understanding? Why did he have to be so forgiving?_

His face is twisting into a pained incredulous expression. He’s hearing everything. She is inadvertently projecting. Her walls have been somehow abandoned in the heat of the moment.

“Rey, please stop doing this. Please, understand... I know you’re terrified. I know you’ve been so lonely, and had to fend for yourself so long that feeling this way- the way you feel for me- scares you to death. But I’m telling you Rey. I’m never going to leave you. I owe you that and so much more... We’re going to fight. We’re going to make mistakes. We’re not always going to have passionate nights. And I don’t want to. I want everything. _Yes_ , that’s selfish. But I want you, Rey. Still... I won’t have your body without your heart. Not anymore. It’s breaking me in half. So we either become friends only. Or we try at whatever this is.”

His hands hold her shoulders, and she realizes she’s trembling. Whether it’s her own fear or his shaking, she’s not sure.

He’s just made all the promises. He’s promised every tomorrow there will ever be; they taint his proposal. She’s only ever had people break their promises.

_I’ll come back for you sweetheart._

“Ren, I-“ she’s struggling to find the words. And he waits. But she can’t say the words. She’s frozen.

He walks over to the door. He lets the door slide open the steps to the side, “I think it’s best for right now, if you leave.”

She doesn’t say anything. She grabs her shirt, pulling it on testily. And she leaves.

She’s halfway down the hallway when she feels it. _He_ closes off. For the first time since he defected he’s shut her out. And it’s harrowing.

_Oh gods, what have I done._


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This is the final chapter.... I am so happy and grateful for you all who decided to love this fic. I hope this chapter makes up for the angst torture! Underrated— this is for you!

It’s a dream. She knows the feel of them now. Their fuzzy texture and the wobbly edges. 

“Not tonight, Rey,” she sits up. Already knowing he was there. Her once naked body was suddenly clothed. Her eyes find him in the dark of the room at the foot of her bed. It’s been three days since she last saw him. But she’s always dreamed of him before. When they’d been apart. Now- Rey has been completely deprived. The past few nights, dreamless, have been lonely. 

“I didn’t mean to-“ she starts. She wipes away a tear. Her dream self is always more emotional than she would ever dare to be in real life.

“No, I know- I,” He sighs. She watches him hunch over more. He’s still shirtless. Her eyes trace the freckles and scars that decorate his back. Wounds. Badges.

She scoots forward, the flight suit she conjured scratching as her thighs shuffle to the end of the bed. 

Rey still can’t feel him, despite him being here. And the part of her that brought him here, to her dreams, aches knowing he’s still absent. Gone.

“I told you I wouldn’t leave.”

She shivers. His voice was so clear here. Always so sure and right. Rey could never explain it, but if she could get close she would probably suppose this is a place where they were who they were meant to be. A place the Force knew they’d meet, no matter the outcome.

“You did,” she hurts. And she can’t help the venom. The bite. He flinches. But his jaw works in that unbearably arousing stubborn way he seemed to perfect. 

“Now you know how it feels,” he stands. He huffs. Thankfully they’re alone in this dream, because had this been real life, her neighbors would beat the wall to shut them up. 

He’s still facing away from her. He hasn’t looked at her once. And she’s harrowed by the absence of his eyes. She just needs him to say something.

“I know you didn’t mean to bring me here, Rey. I’m not mad. And I don’t want to hurt you- I- I... You don’t want me. Not me. Not the way I want and need you. And I, I can’t let you use whatever we have as a placeholder. Because you won’t ever want me, and you won’t ever chase what you deserve. You deserve better than this.”

“Ren, I-“ she can’t find the words... but she knows how she feels. So she stands. Her hands splay over his back. Her fingertips trace scar after scar. Her lips tremble and skim the painfully smooth skin. Waxy, almost, from the healed tissues. Finally she presses her lips firm against her favorite mole. He gasps.

She’s broadcasting every emotion, sensation, and thought. Flooding him with her Force. Her intent. Her love.

Ben stumbles forward, hands falling onto the wall before them. Rey is still behind him, as her hands knead his sides, and then circle around him. Remapping the plateaus and dips of his muscles with strong fingers. Ben chokes on a moan. Her lips kiss a rib, and he jumps. She smiles, as she traces the ridge with her tongue, and his body shivers in response. She kisses lower until she’s kneeling behind him. 

Rey is kneeling behind him. Her hands tug his hips to turn him around. Ben complies. And his eyes finally meet hers. They’re hooded. Black. And she clinched her knelt thighs together. Keeping in a way that has her sex rubbing just so under the suit. 

She unlatches the buckle at the top of his trousers. Tugs the material down, just enough to expose his lower abdominal and cock. Ben’s knees go weak, probably at the sight of maddening hunger emanating from her eyes. Rey grabs hold of his shaft and starts to pump. Twists the throbbing erection every other time. Ben is sighing and cooing; mumbling his affections. She doesn’t put it in her mouth. Not yet. She realizes she’s lost focus. Forgot her purpose. 

Without removing her hand, she peppers his body with kisses. Slowly rising, as her lips trace the line under his left pectoral. Her hand still pumps his member. His heart skips a few beats under the soft gesture. Rey plants one firm kiss to the center of his chest-over his heart- just as she gives one last solid thrust on his twitching cock. Ben comes onto her hand; panting. Crying.

“I love you, Ben,” her voice is wobbly and vulnerable. Her forehead burying itself in his sternum to avoid his shocked expression. She’s loathe to see how much she’s kept from him. How much he’s deserved to know; that she couldn’t give until she lost him. And she knows she crying too. In her bed sleeping. She can feel the wetness here in this dream, and in the recycled air of her real bunker. 

Ben’s arms circle her, “Then wake up.”

Rey startles awake. And she can feel him. All of him. He’s only a few paces from her door. She shoots from the bed, to open the hatch. And he’s standing there. Just as he’d been in her dream.

“You love me,” he’s amazed. There’s no sense of betrayal. No hint of resentment. No intent to fight it. Ben is here. Standing in front of her, and he feels like a free fall. Open and vast and exhilarating. 

“Yes,” she breathes out. Her heart snapping in two as the doors open inside. It freaks from the magnitude of how much she absolutely loves this man before her. 

Someday she’ll get better at telling him just how much. But today, he’s okay with letting him feel it.

**Author's Note:**

> I wasn’t intending on writing more for this, but I was convinced otherwise. Hopefully you like the next installments.
> 
> Also: underrated-reylo on tumblr just so happens to be my prompt muse! They’re brilliant: follow them! 
> 
> OG post: https://underrated-reylo.tumblr.com/post/167191026236/sentence-prompt-she-has-freckles-on-her-back-kylo


End file.
